


Hotter than Hell

by theywere-neverhomeless (notyourdadsaugspecialist)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha John Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Daddy Kink, Dean is a Cock Tease, First Time, Guilty John, Implied Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, M/M, Omega Dean Winchester, Underage Sex, Virgin Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8410024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyourdadsaugspecialist/pseuds/theywere-neverhomeless
Summary: It starts out innocently enough, with a little less clothing and a little less personal space. So Dean struts around, with his little flashes of skin and as if that isn’t bad enough, he seems to be everywhere. John has been an alpha a long time, so he has plenty of practice hiding his arousal, but every now and then Dean just looks up at him from under those thick eyelashes, sweet as can be, with this coy cat-got-the-cream grin.  Every time, god help him, John has to look away and dig his nails into his palm to hide the sharp ping of arousal that he knows is curling around his natural scent. And every time, Dean’s smile gets a little bit wider.Frankly, John thinks that Dean is going to be the death of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> He calls me the devil  
> I make him wanna sin  
> Every time I knock, he can't help but let me in  
> Must be homesick for the real  
> I'm the realest it gets  
> You probably still adore me  
> With my hands around your neck
> 
> Can you feel the warmth? Yeah  
> As my kiss goes down you like some sweet alcohol  
> Where I'm coming from, yeah  
> It's the darker side of me that makes you feel so numb  
> Cause we're hot like hell  
> Does it burn when I'm not there?  
> When you're by yourself  
> Am I the answer to your prayers  
> I'm giving you that pleasure heaven  
> And I'll give it to you  
> Hotter than hell
> 
> Hotter than Hell ~ Dua Lipa

Dean is fourteen when he presents. It’s a messy affair. Everyone thought he’d be an alpha, so when they’re in the middle of a hunt and John smells the overwhelming sticky-sweet of his son’s slick, he’s wholly unprepared. He’s not ignorant though, and his past with helping Mary through her heats gives him some idea of what to expect, so after his knees buckle from the powerful wave of arousal that Dean’s scent brings, he sucks in a deep breath through his mouth, picks up his son’s limp form, and carries him back to the car. 

 

They get to the motel quickly enough, and Sam knows enough to stay out of the way while John tends to Dean, but John knows he’s worried. But any questions Sam has can wait. Right now, John’s main concern is for his eldest. Dean’s been whimpering, reaching for him, and John turns back to him and scoops him up in his arms. At this age, just the scent of an alpha is enough to calm him, and John can’t deny Dean the comfort of it. So when Dean presses his face into the crook of John’s neck, sniffing in sharp, pained inhales, John pushes aside the curl of arousal and shame and cards his fingers through his son’s hair. 

 

After Dean drifts off to sleep, John tucks him in, and he pulls off his jacket and drapes it across the boy’s form before turning for the door. He stops, fixes Sammy with a stern look that’s not without sympathy, and he says, “Sammy, you look after Dean while I’m gone. Try not to wake him.”

 

Sam’s face is scrunched up with worry, and at ten years old, John wishes that he didn’t have to put so much responsibility on his children’s shoulders. But Sam straightens, and with steely resolve in his eyes, he nods at his father.

  
“Yes, sir,” Sam says, in a serious tone that makes John proud, and John nods back at him before leaving. 

 

He comes back later with suppressants and a bag of toys and a bucketful of shame, but he knows that at this young, Dean won’t need them. 

 

After two days of holding his son close and changing his pajamas and sheets every few hours, Dean is back to normal and they’re back on the road. John forwarded the case to another hunter in the area, so he has no qualms about packing up and heading off.

 

Ever since that first heat, Dean’s always stayed a little closer to John than before, and John is worried that the boy’s imprinted on him. It’s not unheard of, especially within families where bonds between AOs are the strongest, but it makes him feel no less guilty. But Dean takes his suppressants diligently, so they don’t have another incident like the first, and John is both relieved and disappointed that he won’t be able to hold his boy close while Dean smells so intoxicating under his nose. 

 

By the time Dean turns sixteen, he’s a crack shot with a pistol and he’s even more dangerous with his mouth. Sam comes home complaining about how many girls have thrown themselves at Dean already, and John always smiles because he knows Sam is just jealous. Whether it’s of the attention his omega brother is getting, or of the girls, John isn’t sure, and he doesn’t think he wants to know. 

 

Sometimes John will wake up in the middle of the night, sheets stuck to his sweaty skin and his heart thudding in his throat, and his boys have learned by now not to ask about the way the alpha’s scent sharpens with shame around itself. They probably think their dad’s been dreaming about their mother, and sometimes they’re right. God, John wishes to hell that were the only thing he dreamed about, because the times that he dreams about his eldest boy beneath him, crying out for his daddy, for his alpha, as John fucks him are worse. So much worse. If Mary knew how John felt about their son, she would come back and haunt him. Hell, she’d probably kill him herself.

 

John knows it’s a bad idea, and he knows it’s selfish, but when Dean complains about the looks people give him at school, he can’t help it. The suppressants don’t just suppress Dean’s heat, they also suppress his scent. It confuses the other kids, and Dean’s gotten more than his share of negative attention because of it. So on the first day of school after they’ve moved again, John pulls off his old leather jacket, the one Mary had gotten him for the last anniversary they spent together, and he hands it to Dean.

 

“Here, son. Wear this to school. My Alpha scent should stop the other kids from drawing any conclusions.”

 

His voice is gruff, and he manages to push down the blush that threatens to steal up his neck. He tells himself that he’s only offering because their scent is so similar since they’re related, that people would just think Dean was an alpha. He tells himself that it’s definitely not a symbolic mark of ownership over his boy, that there’s no ulterior motive here. He tells himself that he’s doing this for Dean. 

 

Dean’s whole face lights up, a bright smile stretching across his face as he slips into the too-big jacket, and John’s heart twists painfully. Why does the boy have to be so goddamn beautiful?

 

“Thanks, Dad,” Dean says, his eyes soft with affection and his voice suspiciously thick with emotion. 

 

“You’re welcome, Dean,” John says gruffly as he shoos them out the door.

 

John prays to whatever god will listen that Dean doesn’t wise up to how John really feels.

 

But, as usual, the gods are cruel.

 

It starts out innocently enough, with a little less clothing and a little less personal space.  Dean starts wearing thinner shirts, old threadbare tees that hang off his body, and when he’s at home he wears the too-big shirts and his boxers, and he refuses to put on pants, no matter how John chastises him. Eventually, John gives up, because he’s too afraid of seeming a little too concerned with Dean’s lack of clothing. So Dean struts around, with his little flashes of skin and as if that isn’t bad enough, he seems to be everywhere. Always right there, right next to John. Dean makes sure their legs are always brushing when they sit at dinner. When John sits on his bed to clean his guns, Dean is right there beside him, somehow always managing to brush their fingers together. 

 

John has been an alpha a long time, so he has plenty of practice hiding his arousal, but every now and then Dean just looks up at him from under those thick eyelashes, sweet as can be, with this coy cat-got-the-cream grin.  Every time, god help him, John has to look away and dig his nails into his palm to hide the sharp ping of arousal that he knows is curling around his natural scent. And every time, Dean’s smile gets a little bit wider.

 

Frankly, John thinks that Dean is going to be the death of him.

 

The first time Dean calls him ‘Daddy,’ John nearly groans out loud and he has to excuse himself to go for a walk.  He pulls on his jacket hastily, and he misses the dubious look Sam gives his brother, and the smug shrug that Dean gives in return.

 

Of course, he was in such a rush that he didn’t notice that he grabbed Dean’s jacket by mistake. As soon as he’s out of the house, the smell of Dean wraps around him, and John sucks in a greedy breath through his nose, burying his face in the jacket. He feels so ashamed, but he can’t bring himself to stop. He keeps scenting Dean on the jacket, and god, it makes his head spin. He stumbles toward the Impala, his steps faltering when he smells it. Underneath the everyday ordinary smell of Dean, arousal. Orgasm. Woven underneath the scent of freshly mown grass, gun oil and vanilla is the honeysuckle smell of Dean’s arousal. The only reason John recognizes it is because he got a damn noseful during that first heat, and he’s been dreaming about it ever since. 

 

Shame washes through him as he practically trips into the car and closes the door quietly behind him, because before the door’s even shut he’s palming his cock and groaning. John’s hands tremble as he unzips his pants and shaking fingers wrap around his already leaking cock.  He wants so badly to taste Dean, to put one thick finger inside his son’s leaking hole and taste the slick on his tongue. He wants so badly to have his son begging for him to go harder, faster, deeper as he stretches Dean around his cock. John isn’t particularly long, but he’s very thick, and he wants to drink the moans and whimpers Dean would make trying to fit it inside that tight virgin heat.

 

John comes embarrassingly quickly, biting into one fist as he spills over the other with a thick groan. He cleans himself off with a rag in the floorboards, and lets his head fall back against the headrest with a defeated thump. 

 

_ Please forgive me, Mary. _

 

Once the sweat cools on his skin, John gathers his courage and goes back inside. Sam’s gone to bed, but Dean is sitting cross-legged in his bed, reading a book. If Dean can smell the lingering stench of guilt and semen on John, he doesn’t say anything, but in the morning when he goes to school, John swears he sees Dean give him a sultry grin when the boy slips on the jacket as he heads out the door. Neither of the boys see the way John raises a shaking hand to cover his eyes once they’ve left. God help him, John’s just a man. He’s never been particularly strong, his friendship with Johnny Walker and Jose Cuervo can attest to that, no matter what the boys think. But when it comes to his boys? He’s weak. Always has been. And now Dean is chipping away every bit of his resolve. The boy will be his undoing, and John is equal parts terrified and entranced by the thought of what comes after that.

 

John was set up to fail from the very start, but when he comes home to see Dean cooking dinner wearing nothing but the jacket and some kind of unholy black lace panty, clinging to the gentle curve of his ass, he knows he’s doomed.

 

“Dean Winchester, what do you think you’re doing?” John barks, his voice booming in the small space.  He’s hoping that Dean will be jolted out of whatever diabolical plan he’s plotting, but what little fortitude he has left trembles when Dean turns around with a coy grin instead. He can smell the arousal already tucking itself into Dean’s scent, and lord help him, his body responds readily to the invitation. Dean’s grin spreads when he smells the desire in his father’s scent, and John may honest to god whimper at that. 

 

“Do you like them, Daddy?” Dean purrs, and the way the boy’s lips wrap around the title has a shudder snaking up John’s spine.  The boy turns back to his task, wiggling his pert bottom in a way that could only be described as inviting. John takes a step forward despite himself.

 

“Where’s your brother?” John rasps, hating himself for how hoarse his voice is already. He takes another step forward.  By the time Dean replies, he’s close enough to reach out and touch.

 

“He’s studying with some friends at the library,” Dean says, stirring the pot of beans even as he throws John a glance over his shoulder. John’s not an idiot; he can see the want darkening those pretty green eyes of Dean’s, can see the pink flush of the boy’s cheeks under all those freckles. “It’s just you and me,  _ Daddy, _ ” he says, and this time John groans out loud at the word, an Alpha rumble thrumming in his chest. 

 

John licks his lips as Dean’s mouth goes slack with want, the Omega in him responding to his Alpha. 

 

“Touch me, Alpha,” Dean murmurs, using his Omega voice, and John is helpless to resist. The last of his resolve crumbles into dust. He can smell his boy’s slick, already wet before he’s even laid a hand on him, and the strength of it nearly makes his knees buckle when John lays a large hand on Dean’s hip and pulls him flush against his body. Dean keens when the thick line of John’s cock nestles against his lower back, and he arches his back, rubbing his ass into it. John growls again, the sound intensifying when he feels the moisture dampening Dean’s panties.

 

“Such a pretty Omega,” John purrs, and Dean makes a wordless pleased noise as John’s other hand slides up under the jacket to skate up his torso. “You’re a slut, boy, you know that?” He growls it into Dean’s ear, who responds with a wordless moan and a cant of his hips. John rolls one nipple between his calloused fingers, and Dean cries out, squirming against John’s body. John groans, hands drifting down bare flesh to grip Dean’s hips again, and one hand presses back, slipping under the lace to press at the crease of Dean’s ass. 

 

“Yes, please, god yes,” Dean moans, head falling back onto John’s chest, and John lets out another Alpha growl as he presses further down. John groans when he reaches dampness, and by the time his finger presses against Dean’s hole, most of his hand is covered in slick.

 

“God, Dean, you’re so wet for me,” John groans into Dean’s neck in awe, and he presses tender kisses into the dip behind Dean’s ear as he slides that first finger home. Dean cries out roughly, a sharp sound that trails off into a drawn-out moan as John slowly fingers him. He rolls his hips back in a clear invitation for more, and John can feel how wet he is, so he slides in another finger beside the first. Dean moans thickly, hands shaking around the ladle that he’s still clutching. 

 

“Yeah, that’s it, Omega, you’re taking my fingers so good,” John praises as he starts scissoring his fingers inside, biting his lip to stifle the groan as Dean begins to purr under the slow assault. John crooks his fingers, brushing against that sweet spot, and Dean’s eyes snap open as he cries out sharply.

 

“Hhhho, god, Dad, do that again, Dad,” Dean pleads, throwing an arm around John’s neck to help hold himself up, and John complies. The boy’s thighs begin to tremble as he continues pressing against his prostate, wringing desperate cries from Dean’s lips. John chuckles at the disappointed keening whimper Dean gives when he pulls his fingers free, leaving the boy empty and aching for more. 

 

He raises a trembling hand to his mouth and wraps his lips around his own fingers, moaning when the taste finally hits his tongue. It’s better than he even imagined, and Dean trembles beneath him at the sharp spike of arousal in John’s alpha scent.

 

John grabs Dean’s hand and presses a gentle kiss to the inside of his son’s wrist, which has Dean blushing. The older man disentangles himself carefully before wrapping his fingers in the hem of those gorgeous, soaked lace panties. 

 

“So fucking beautiful, my Omega,” John purrs as he gently tugs the panties down Dean’s hips, and the way they look pooled at his ankles is almost hotter than the way they looked encasing the boy’s ass. 

 

John takes two firm handfuls of Omega ass, and Dean moans, lifting his hips up and back in encouragement as he kneads the flesh. Dean stills when John gets down on one knee and then the other, eyes glued to the cute little asshole nestled between those beautiful globes of flesh, steadily leaking slick.

 

“D-dad, what are you doing?” 

 

This is the first time Dean’s seemed unsure since this whole debacle began, and John smiles reassuringly up at his son, which seems to calm him.

 

“Trust me, son. Spread your legs,” he orders, and Dean obeys immediately. Dean’s always been the more obedient one, always eager to please. It definitely comes in handy now, and John growls at the sight. “Good boy, Omega. Now hold still.” 

 

“Yes, Alpha,” Dean breathes, hands braced on either side of the stove, meal long-forgotten.

 

John lets out an Alpha rumble of approval and then he’s got his face buried between Dean’s spread asscheeks, lapping greedily at the slick hole. His stubble rubs against his son’s tender thighs, and John briefly wonders if it hurts, but Dean’s moaning, rocking back into the sensation, and he wastes no further consideration on it as he slips his tongue into that tight hole.

 

“ _ Dad! _ ” Dean cries out, eyes wide in shock and pleasure as John begins tongue fucking him in earnest. He’s got slick on his chin, his son’s ass on his face, and the heavy taste of Dean on his tongue, and John doesn’t think there’s been anything more perfect in his life. He grabs Dean’s cheeks firmly and pulls them further apart, allowing his tongue to worm in even deeper, and Dean’s thighs are shaking as he keens above him. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, Dad, yeah, Alpha,  _ yes, _ ” Dean moans, breathlessly encouraging John’s ministrations until he’s just moaning and keening and purring deep in his chest. John groans, and reaches up to wrap a hand around Dean’s cock. Dean cries out sharply when he begins pumping him slowly, his moans becoming more and more desperate. “Dad, Daddy, gonna come, I need to come, Alpha, please, can I-”

 

John moans roughly, pulling his face from its place in heaven to order roughly, “Come for me, Omega. Come for me, Dean.”

 

He uses his Alpha voice in the command, and Dean obeys, like he always does, keening sharply as he comes all over John’s hand, and he keeps coming and coming until his legs give out. John finally stops pumping the poor boy’s cock and grabs him, lowering him gently onto the floor.

 

Dean is panting harshly, mouth slack with the orgasm he’s still coming down from, and John strokes his arms gently, comforting his omega as he comes back to reality. Sooner than John expected, Dean’s eyes are clearing, and he turns in John’s arms to press his lips to John’s. 

 

Dean’s no newbie to kissing, and it shows, but John is older and much more experienced. Dean presses his body against John’s as the older man kisses him, and John wraps an arm around Dean’s waist to pull him closer as he slips his tongue in the boy’s mouth. Dean moans into the kiss, and John drinks it up, his cock almost painful where it’s trapped in its denim prison, but he ignores it and loses himself in his son’s mouth. When they finally part, they’re both breathing hard, but John isn’t prepared for the quiet but determined request that Dean murmurs against his lips.

 

“I want you to fuck me, Dad.”

 

John groans, deep in his chest, and he lets his head fall back as his cock throbs painfully before falling back forward to look into Dean’s eyes.

 

“Dean, are you sure? That’s a pretty big step. Wouldn’t you rather have your first time be with someone your age, someone you like?” 

 

John’s heart is thrumming rapid-fire in his chest, and all he wants to do is push Dean onto the floor and mount him, but this is Dean. This is his baby boy. 

 

“Dad,” Dean says with a shake of his head, like John’s the biggest idiot in the world. He surges up and kisses John sweetly but passionately, and pulls back again. “Want  _ you.”  _ He enunciates the word with another kiss. “Wanted you since I presented. Always you, Dad.”

 

John just groans again, pressing their foreheads together in a tender gesture as Dean unzips John’s trousers and wraps his fingers around the man’s thickness. Dean sucks in an appreciative breath, but John just growls, pulling Dean to him with one hand and grabbing his cock with the other. He grinds against Dean’s ass for a few beats, letting it get nice and slick before he’s lining himself up. Dean’s just as eager to get on with it because he cants his hips so that the head of John’s cock catches on the boy’s entrance, and John doesn’t need any further encouraging. He slowly guides Dean down onto his cock, reveling in the way Dean’s thighs tremble around him where they’re bracketing his own, and by the time Dean’s fully seated, the boy’s whole body is trembling.

 

“Are you alright, son?” John asks, his voice rough like gravel, eyes black with want. Dean isn’t much better, the green almost completely swallowed by dark need, and when he answers, his voice is hoarse.

 

“Y-yeah, just. Big.” 

 

John chuckles, letting Dean get used to his not inconsiderable girth. Eventually, Dean’s ready, and he lifts himself up with shaky thighs. An obscene moan falls from Dean’s lips at the feel of his father’s cock splitting him open as he lets gravity pull him back into John’s lap.

 

“ _ Fuck _ , Dean!” John nearly shouts, taken by surprise. “You want me to come before we’ve started, that’s how to do it, son,” John growls as he grabs Dean’s hips. He takes over the pace, slowly, slowly, slowly pulling Dean off his cock, and just as slowly pushing him back down. They’re both trembling with the effort, and when Dean whimpers a plea for more, John decides he’s had enough of slow. 

 

His fingers are firm on Dean’s hips as he fucks into him, using his hips just as much as he’s guiding Dean’s, and the feeling of his boy’s tight slick heat wrapped around him is more incredible than he could have imagined. He’s groaning into Dean’s mouth, cock throbbing at the obscene sound of Dean’s hole greedily swallowing John’s cock over and over again, and he can feel his knot swelling even as Dean’s keening cries grow more and more desperate.  John roughly shoves one hand between them and pushes his pants down further, lifting his hips up in a way that makes them both cry out as he shimmies out of them. 

 

“That’s such a good boy, Dean, you’re taking my cock so beautifully,” John praises, voice rough and thick with pleasure and exertion, cock throbbing at the beautiful purring his omega is making. “I’m getting close, Dean,” he grunts, never faltering in his pace as he fucks the boy. “Do you want my knot, Omega?” He laces the words with his Alpha purr, and he knows it’s underhanded but he can’t quite control himself. Dean goes wild above him, keening desperately and pressing his hips eagerly down, encouraging a harsher pace and answering his question rather soundly.

 

“Yeah, fuck, Dad, yeah please, I need it, please Alpha, please,” Dean begs into John’s mouth, and he can feel the boy spasming around his cock, warning of his impending orgasm. 

 

“You’re so good, Dean, so good for me,” John moans as his knot presses up against Dean’s hole. “Here it comes, Omega, you ready?” He growls the question, more rhetorical anything because he’s fucking into Dean’s hole and the knot goes in a little more each time. Dean is moaning and crying out desperately above him, and when it finally slides in with an obscene squelch, Dean screams. He’s coming, hot and hard and heavy between them, slick gushing over John’s balls as the boy contracts and spasms around him, and that’s all it takes for John. He’s coming, gushing into Dean’s hole, and he doesn’t even have to thrust anymore because the way Dean’s muscles are spasming around him are enough to keep him coming inside the boy until they’re both spent. 

  
Dean slumps, exhausted, into John’s arms, and John carefully lowers them both to the floor with as little jostling as possible.  Dean presses his face into the crook of his father’s neck, and John runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, just like he did that first night of Dean’s heat. They lay like that for several minutes, just drinking each other in as they come down. 

 

“Oh, God, it reeks!” John’s heart stops sickeningly, and his blood runs cold as he hears Sam’s voice in the doorway. Dean tenses in his arms, and John grips him tightly to avoid Dean trying to jerk off his lap, he would just hurt himself at this point with John’s knot still swollen inside him. 

 

“God, it’s about fucking time, you guys,” Sam calls out in exasperation, “but did you have to do it in the dining room? We  _ eat  _ there!” 

 

“Go for a walk, son,” John orders, his voice firm, but he really has no ground to stand on here, and he completely deserves it when Sam groans a petulant “whatever” and slams the door.

 

He looks down at Dean, concerned about how the boy’s taking being walked in on by his brother. Dean’s wide eyes meet his, the green slowly coming back into focus as the fog of desire fades away. They stare at each other like that for a moment, and then Dean bursts into giggles in his arms.

 

“It’s not funny, Dean,” John says weakly, but he’s chuckling too, and Dean’s just laughing and laughing.

 

It  _ is _ pretty absurd, John supposes.  Eventually the laughter dies out, and when the smiles fade from their faces, John presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead.

 

“Are you alright, son?” John asks gently, hoping Dean understands the questions he didn’t ask.  _ Do you hate me? Have I ruined everything? _

 

“Are you kidding me?” Dean asks incredulously, and he continues before John has a chance to freak out. “I’m  _ awesome _ !” He bursts out laughing again, and they both laugh together this time. When Dean’s laugh morphs into a surprised groan when the knot slides out, face frozen in comedic shock, John laughs even louder. 

 

“Shut up, Dad,” Dean says, kicking John’s ankle, but there’s no real venom behind it.

 

Now that they’re able to, John sits them both up and presses a sweet, tender kiss to Dean’s lips. Those green eyes flutter shut and Dean makes a quiet pleased noise in his throat. When they finally pull away, John smiles down at him gently, face full of affection, and Dean flushes under the gaze.

 

“Let’s get up and clean ourselves up before your brother gets back and is scarred for life,” John says with a lopsided grin, and Dean groans with chagrin as they both slowly get to their feet. John manages to pull up Dean’s panties and fasten them around his hips just before some of John’s semen leaks out onto the floor. 

 

“Yes, sir,” Dean says with a grin as he shuffles off to the bathroom to wash off.

 

When the boy disappears into the bathroom, John’s smile fades, and he looks to the ceiling sadly.

 

_ Please forgive me, Mary. These boys. They’re all I got. _

  
The life they have is tough. They deserve happiness where it can be found. It makes things more complicated, but they’ll figure it out. They always do.


End file.
